Moments Can Be Misleading
by Shadows Abound
Summary: The hour strikes midnight. The year is 2012. The New Year isn't all that it is cracked up to be.


Disclaimer: I don't own this, nor the lyrics.

A/n: So this is my first Bleach story that I've decided to publish. It is also the only one that I've finished. Anyway, this is one of my first times writing this pairing, and I hope I did this justice. If not, well, it doesn't matter. I've finished something and that is something that am able to do often. Anyway, enough of my rambling; I hope that you enjoy this. :)

Please review and tell me what ya think.

Pairing: GrimmjowxIchigo

Summary: The start of a new year can always be misleading.

Rating: T

Song: Forever or Never; Cinema Bizarre

6/10/2012: This little story was never edited when I first posted it, but now I've taken the time to look through it a bit more so that it could flow a tad better.

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><p><em>~I'm not gonna live forever,<em>

_Said I'm not gonna live forever,_

_better make it now or never~_

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><p>Time is an intricate space. Difficult to fully understand, yet we are subjected to its whims. The clock hands tick by every second of every day at a speed that we as people simply are forced to accept; there is no going back, nor is the luxury of stopping.<p>

No matter how much we fool ourselves – We shall all fall. We shall all become its victims.

I've never cared much for New Year's, all the parties, and all the ball droppings; the drinking and the wild friends that are going to wake the next morning with hangovers that threaten to last for months into the New Year.

This is the time that people look to the past and come to bring about a change in themselves for the up and coming days; health, finances, and connections. These resolutions of change that are superficial, shallow, and never going to fall through – it was a hopeless endeavor that I was never able to fully understand.

To me there was no use, things were going to remain the same despite the promises, and the determination that might have been felt when the words were first spoken. To be honest, I treated them like I did Orihime's cooking, it was never going to be better, and more than likely was going to get worse as it continued.

This year is no different. There is nothing special nor is there change, I don't feel different, and perhaps, the only thing that I do know is that this New Year is going to be filled with more woes than the last.

2012.

The world is going to end. I've heard it many times before, and still it is all the same. Some prophet in days long since past have predicted that we are all going to die – before this time next year. In some barrage of fiery flame that will rain down from the sky, swallowed up by the rising oceans, or complete and utter social economic collapse – thus, in short we were all going to die in some form or fashion.

These predictions I've heard all this passed year, and I find myself to be quite worn and immune to the effects of the supposed end of the world. I no longer put much thought into the supposed doom, nor do I really care. And adapted with a mindset that screams _I don't care, if it happens, it happens. _There is nothing that I can do or change, I'm just me.

Ichigo Kurosaki. A twenty-year old college sophomore, aspiring to be well something I'm not too sure, still living with my family and boyfriend, in a place that has no real merit.

It is a quarter to midnight on New Year's eve, I find myself alone sitting on the couch watching a marathon of some show that I've failed to keep up over the years, as the cat sleeps soundly beside me without a care in the world.

My friends are out partying with family, or in the cities waiting for the countdown to begin, hyped up on new beginnings and alcohol; my own family is sleeping soundly upstairs, dad has to go into work early in the morning while my sisters are in bed with illness.

While my boyfriend, well, he is not much of a person to be around. Grumpy and prone to mood swings of both the anger and sadness nature makes it hard to be cheerful yourself –especially, after several failed attempts to bring a smile to his face, a twisted and feral grin, so that we might go back to some twisted form of normalcy.

Not that we were ever really normal, we were always the odder ones in the basket, compared to even our odd friends. We were that deeper level of oddity that many could never understand, we looked and acted for the most part normal, or a normal as normal could be.

I feel that I've used that word to much just then, but it was the best way to get my point across. We were different.

Of course, none of that really matters.

What I'm trying to say is that despite everything, I find myself on this precipice were I want to scream, and this urge of wanting to be around people. Having some form of companionship that wasn't going to cost me my head – Grimmjow was too upset for me to even get a word in with him, and I had given up on trying to cheer him up because nothing was working.

That of which was enough to discourage me, and dread the upcoming year.

Oh. It's a few minutes passed midnight.

Happy 2012. I guess.

It doesn't feel like a good start to a New Year - the year that everything is going to end.

Heh. I don't even have a bottle of wine to kick things off.

It's rather sad.

I wonder and toss the thought of calling my pseudo twin, Shiro. He is off with his brother having a nice bottle of wine, and I doubt that he would be sober.

I miss him. Usually, we are joined at the hip, having known each other, since before we could remember, and rooming at college; yet, here I find myself without his companionship and craving it. And we have only been apart for a little over a week. A little sad, don't ya think?

2012.

I'm already starting to dislike you.

You know to tell you the truth, I don't usually have such a pessimistic attitude, but for some reason I can't seem to escape it now. The entire day has been nothing, but one big drab that I have wanted nothing more than to escape from.

Yet, here I find myself. . . once again realizing that I'm basically sitting here alone watching a show that I've lost track of, a snoring cat to my side, and a Grimmjow, who I want nothing more than to scream at as he stares off into space with a somber expression across his face.

For there is this heavy air that hangs over the room, and I can no longer breathe correctly, and my head is spinning.

I don't like the start to this new year.

Because it feels like all the rest.

I wonder. . . No.

It is all the same.

Idly, though, I toyed with the thought that maybe tomorrow might be better. I didn't hold my breath.

I focused my attention back on the television, my mind was too restless and all that I wanted was a break. I wanted to sleep now. But I knew that I wouldn't be able to.

Grimmjow was now sitting beside me, his azure eyes staring right through me; I've never told him but I hate that look in his eyes. That blank stare. To me, it feels like he isn't seeing me, but something else. Or nothing.

I hate dead eyes. Especially, when they don't belong to a corpse.

I find myself unable to focus on the show, as it becomes nothing more than background noise, because that is when I feel Grimmjow rest his head on my lap. It is for the first time that the weight that I normally find comforting – heavy.

I ignore it. He was trying to be social – something that he hasn't done since he came in from work.

A very small smile graces my lips and on habit, a cherished habit, I run my fingers through his sky-blue hair. It's a bit greasy, but in some areas it's still soft as silk.

I don't care. It's his. And it brings in a since of normal in this off beginning.

His previously tense frame relaxes ever so slightly against my fingers. I take that as I good sign, especially, when he snuggles closer against me. I never stop my fingers.

I don't want to.

Because maybe, this is what we needed, some time alone in silence. No words spoken. Just body language that only we know, and have used for five years.

I was content for the first time since the last day of 2011 and the hour of 2012.

Grimmjow moved, in ways that kept my fingers threaded through his hair, and looked up at me. His eyes were no longer dead, dimly shining, as he pulled himself up and on top of me. His larger frame covered mine in a warm, heavy embrace that I couldn't help but shiver in delight. My own personal slice of heaven.

I had been cold all day as if I were a dead body, yet here he was radiating heat like furnace slowly thawing my entire being.

His scent. It was musky, yet sweet. Smelled of smoke and sweat. It was him.

I bury my face in his neck, he nuzzles my throat, and it isn't long that a feel his lips pressed against the sensitive flesh under my ear.

They are chapped.

They are rough.

They belong to him.

It is then I realize that we have missed that tradition, the one that we have made ours just as so many other couples. Kissing at the stroke of midnight, we've done it for years and this marks the first we've missed. Oddly, I find that it doesn't bug me, and just relax under his ministrations.

He was seeking comfort, and I was more than happy to give.

I tightened my fist in his hair, and pulled him back. He looked at me with confused eyes, and I just smiled, a small curl of my lips.

Kissing him for the first time in the new year was – brilliant.

Our lips met in a gentle caress, slowly evolving into heady passion and rougher play. Caressing one another with subtle touches and parted lips. For once we weren't battling for dominance,but instead just relishing in the presence of one another.

It was beautiful,literately breathtaking, playful, full of passion and so many promises that couldn't be expressed through words.

We separated. Panting for air, lips glistening, our eyes shining brilliantly as we stared at one another, foreheads resting together. Our breath mingling.

Eyes locked. Together.

It was in that moment that everything seemed right in the world.

In this New Year. 2012.

I didn't care that it might end only a few months after I reached twenty-one. I didn't care that I didn't have a bottle of wine. Or that I wasn't with Shiro.

The companionship I craved was sated by Grimmjow, the man that I had fallen in love with so many years ago.

He was happy. The grin that twisted his lips was sure proof, as were his wandering hands.

They slipped under my clothes, left fiery trails that burned my skin,caused pleasant shivers to rush up my spine, and deep, breathless moans to escape my lips. While a low, husky chuckle rumbled through his frame resounded through my chest and filled me with a warmth that I was more than addicted to.

2012.

Maybe you won't be so bad after all.


End file.
